


A Dad's Replacement

by big_slug



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anger Management, Angst, Child Abandonment, Divorce, Family Issues, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Hurt/Comfort, Literally And Figuratively, Memories, Mike is an angry mess, Repairing Things, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_slug/pseuds/big_slug
Summary: Things aren't looking well in the Wheeler family, and it is Jim Hopper's understanding that he can not simply ignore this. Lucky for him, he's got a roof leak.After Mike's parents announce their divorce, Jim enlists the boy's help in fixing the cabin's roof.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Jim "Chief" Hopper & Mike Wheeler
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	A Dad's Replacement

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is... It sort of started when I found an old photo of my dad fixing the roof of our toolshed with asphalt roll. I must have been five or six at the time, and I very vividly remember the smell and his curses.  
> So, I guess I need to apologize in advance for all the roofing that's happening in this fic. lol  
> It's also emotional. Parts of it delve into Hopper's past, if that's something you're interested in. I don't know if any of this contradicts canon, tough, because I haven't read any of the ST novels. But this is Season 2 canon compliant AT BEST anyways.

Usually, when someone called the police in the little town of Hawkins, it was about petty things. A fender bender here, sometimes a hit and run, and very rarely a kid who got caught stealing. Perhaps a little dispute among neighbors. _Usually_. But today wasn‘t your regular spring day in Roane County, and it was stupid of Jim to assume that it would end like a regular day.

When he set foot in the police station that morning, hell was just breaking loose, evident by the face Flo made when she saw him, the phone caught between her cheek and shoulder, fingers hurriedly hammering on her typewriter. A series of break-ins during the night. Five stores on Main Street wound up with anywhere between four hundred and two thousand dollars missing.

And as if Jim wasn‘t caught up enough in this mess (even the mayor started pestering him about it at some point), he had to send a team out to Hyde Street in the late afternoon, after old man Tom Hicks hat shot his neighbor in the foot. Suffice it to say that, when two domestic violence calls within ten minutes of each other came in, Jim bit clean through the pencil he was just chewing on. He answered one of these calls in person, and he was _so_ glad when the guy resisted arrest. Wiping the blood off his knuckles felt good.

But not nearly good enough to take off the edge, so Jim drove home with high blood pressure and a curse for this town stuck behind his gnashing teeth. He needed a cold beer and some sleep.

What he didn‘t need was Mike Wheeler on his couch. No bike could be found outside, so the kid would probably want a ride home. But before Jim could give his daughter a piece of his mind, he realized that something was wrong here. He shrugged off some of his tension and tried to make a concerned voice as he whispered „Kid, what‘s going on with him?“

„Psst...“ El hushed. Mike was slumped against her shoulder, asleep, looking more than just under the weather. His skin was like wax, his eyelids red and somewhat swollen. El motioned Jim to come closer.

„Ellie, c‘mon, what‘s going on here? Is he sick?“

„N-no, it‘s...“ El fought the words, or she fought her own wavering voice. „It‘s about Mike‘s parents. They‘re getting divorced.“

Jim slumped in his armchair. He could swear that some days this town just _wanted_ to fuck him over. Because it was already very clear to him that he couldn‘t just look the other way and pretend this wasn‘t happening. The Wheeler boy was a part of Jim‘s life as much as El was. After a while (Jim pretended to think while his mind was really running in neutral) he sighed. „I think we should wake him up. He‘ll need a ride home.“

El didn‘t even ask if Mike could stay the night, knowing that it wouldn‘t do him any good to hide from his family. The kid walked like a zombie, half asleep, sniffing and coughing, but he didn‘t speak. Only to say goodbye to El.

It was ten minutes later, just as Jim brought the car to a stop in front of the Wheeler house, when Mike said something. „My dad isn‘t home.“

„No? Can‘t say I‘m surprised.“ Jim said awkwardly.

„I mean, he hasn‘t been home in a few days. Him not coming home for a night or two is sort of normal by now, but this time it‘s been almost a week. And I guess my mom figured she couldn‘t keep it a secret any longer, or explain it away with a business trip. So she called Nancy first, while I was at school, and when I got home she... I mean...“

How was Jim supposed to deal with this stuff? How was _anyone_ supposed to deal with it? All he could do was interrupt the kid as gently as possible, as this was decidedly not the right time to get caught up in a lengthy conversation. „You don‘t have to say it. You think you‘re gonna be okay for tonight?“

„I‘ll be fine.“ Mike said tonelessly. „Thanks for the ride.“

„Yeah, anytime. Just... come over whenever you like, but make sure to spend some time with your mother too.“ Mike waved as he walked towards the house, and Jim waited until he was inside. „Screw this town...“ Jim knew it was hardly the town‘s fault, but didn‘t everything about this day seem to fit into that web of problems it had spun around him?

* * *

„I don‘t know, Jim. I just never thought it‘d happen to them. Lonnie and me, we were sort of a lost cause from the beginning.“

Jim had his eyes closed, his lids filtering the sunlight that was hitting his face into a pool of red. He didn‘t move, didn‘t exactly trust Joyce‘s kitchen chair to hold his entire, very substantial, weight. „And what‘s that supposed to mean?“

Joyce was sitting on the kitchen counter, fumbling with a cigarette as though she couldn‘t decide whether or not to light it. Or maybe she just couldn‘t find her ligher. „You don‘t have to play that game with me. Wasn‘t it you who warned me of him?“

„As far as I remember, everyone warned you of Lonnie.“ Jim put out his own cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he offered Joyce his lighter.

„No, I-“ she shook her head through heavy clouds of unfiltered smoke and threw Jim her own cigarette instead. Joyce opened the window to let in some fresh air. „I‘d like to stop. I mean, I go to sleep coughing, I wake up coughing, and I really don‘t want to wait and see how long it takes until blood comes out.“

Jim nodded his approval. „If you _want_ to stop, you‘re already two steps ahead of my useless ass. You know, maybe your marriage really was a lost cause, but then I think I know you well enough to tell you that it wasn‘t _your_ fault. And I think whatever‘s going on with Karen and Ted, it‘s also not her fault. Or not entirely. As much as I like Karen, that‘s sort of disheartening, if you ask me.“

„Why is that?“

„Because I can see the pattern, Joy. It‘s usually the husband‘s fault, isn‘t it? He‘s the slob who comes home drunk, or doesn‘t come home at all, who... I don‘t know... tries to distract himself from reality so much that the people around become characters in a play...“ Jim dared to move now, and the chair made a frightening sound under him as he stretched his legs under the table. It was hard for him to go on. All this shit was just hitting way too close to home. „Makes you wonder.“

„If you can look at two failed marriages and make out a pattern, I don‘t know how you can still be helped, Jim.“ Joyce laughed. „And besides, it‘s not really up to us to point fingers, is it? All I have to know is that I‘ve always been on very good terms with Karen, and not so much with Ted. He was sort of always just a stranger.“

„Agreed.“

„I‘ll invite her over next Sunday. Maybe I can do something to make it easier. At least offer some advice, as someone who has gone through this process.“ Now, Joyce started pacing in front of Jim. The empathy she was radiating mixed with grim eagerness as she went on. „When Lonnie skipped town she made me come to her place and bake some cookies for the kids, and I know this sounds like it‘s totally menial, but it helped a great deal. I still feel stupid for how much convincing I needed.“

„Cookies for the little one...“ Jim sighed.

„Holly, yes. She‘s just five, I mean, that‘s possibly the worst age for a kid to go through this. Girls her age are close with their fathers.“ Joyce said. There was an uncomfortable pause. „Alright, so I‘ll be taking care of Karen and Holly. Jonathan tells me Nancy is handling herself okay.“

Jim chuckled. Although he couldn‘t exactly remember when he had last spoken to Nancy Wheeler, he felt as though he knew her. Or knew her type, at least. Like Diane; The type who can figure out most of their emotional baggage quickly. „She‘ll be fine with your son, Joyce. But that leaves Mike. What do we do about him? Christ, you should‘ve seen him last night, he was half-dead.“

„I guess...“ Joyce tugged a lip under her teeth and started chewing. „I guess it would be best if you tried to take care of him.“

„Me?“ Jim huffed. „In case you haven‘t noticed, I‘m about as emotionally crippled as the next guy, especially Ted Wheeler. How am I supposed to talk to the kid and make it worthwhile?“

„Oh, Jim.“ Joyce said in a belittling voice. „It‘s not so much about talking. I‘d bet you a hundred bucks that he doesn‘t want to talk anyways. But there‘s a lot more that you can do that Ted never even tried.“

„You think so?“ Jim was skeptical, because at first he couldn‘t figure out one damn thing he could do, besides maybe drinking one beer after the other until his tongue was loose enough to handle emotional conversations ( _not an option)_. But as he let his head fall back, his gaze resting on the dark ceiling of Joyce‘s kitchen, an idea sprang to mind. „Alright... alright... how about a day of hard physical labor?“

* * *

That day came the next Saturday, merely a week later. Jim couldn‘t put it up any longer, even if he wanted to, because the Wheeler kid was not handling himself well. Whenever he came over, the boy looked worse than the day before. Unkempt, pale, tired, and he would switch between cuddling with Jim‘s daughter (Jim looked the other way when that happened), and snapping at her. The latter was the really concerning part. On Thursday Jim came home to find El crying softly in front of the TV, no doubt Wheeler‘s fault, even if she didn‘t want to admit it.

But Jim was willing to cut the boy some slack. So on Friday he went to the hardware store, got all the necessary supplies to make this weekend a success, and then he called Karen. Jim was relieved that she one hundred percent agreed with his plan.

So on Saturday, around noon, Jim saw the kid bike sloppily through the forest, always on the verge of falling over, all bleary-eyed and grim. The sight made him hope that Mike wouldn‘t just pass out after a few hours, because whatever work they would start today, they would have to finish it. „Hey, kid.“ Jim said.

„Uh, hey.“ Mike mumbled at his feet. „Where‘s El?“

„Having a nice day in the city with Maxine and her mother. You know, doing the things girls do. Whatever they do. Trying on shoes, I suppose.“

Immediately, Mike‘s gaze shot up and his eyes narrowed at Jim. „So she‘s not here? Why the hell did you make me get up this early then?“ The kid could hardly keep the bile out of his jumping voice.

„Easy now, cowboy. Your mom told you to put on some old clothes?“ As Jim looked the kid over, he noticed the holes in his jeans. Also the three sizes too large flannel that was riddled with stains of white paint. Jim grinned. „Looks like she did. Congratulations, kid, you‘ve just been drafted.“

„What?“

„Follow me, I‘ll explain.“ Jim led the boy into the cabin, where he had a flashlight sitting on the kitchen table. Mike looked at him with hardly hidden skepticism as he started talking. „Once upon a time- Are you even listening?“

„Y-Yeah...“

„Okay, so, once upon a time two weeks ago, a weary police chief sat down in his armchair after a day of honest work. He had a TV dinner in his lap, a can of beer in his hand, and everything could have been fine. But something wasn‘t right in his humble home. The bald spot on the aging chief‘s head suddenly felt cold and wet.“

Mike followed Jim‘s flashlight with his eyes, towards the ceiling, and he made an annoyed huff. „There‘s a hole in your roof. And you want me to help fix it.“

„I couldn‘t have put it better, kid. I‘m not gonna lie, this is gonna take some time. If it was just for covering that hole, we‘d be done in half an hour. But see that right there?“ Jim directed the light towards one of the roof beams, and it was immediately clear that the thing had seen better days. „We got two rotten beams up there. So here‘s the plan. If we want to replace the beams, we‘d have to tear the entire roof apart, but if we just cut out the rotten parts and then screw in one new piece of wood on either side, we should be fine.“

„And did anyone think to ask me if I actually _wanted_ to spend my Saturday fixing your roof?“ Mike asked indignantly. He was looking towards the door, looking for his way out of here.

Jim was willing to forgive a boy in Mike‘s situation a whole lot, but that didn‘t mean he would let the Wheeler kid walk all over him. „My roof? I think you‘re forgetting that this is also your girlfriend‘s roof. So if you want her bedroom to stay dry this fall, I suggest you put in some work, kid. There‘s one more thing.“

„Okay...“ Mike sighed with his arms crossed. „I‘m listening.“

„I bought enough asphalt roll to cover the entire roof with it. Which we‘re gonna do as well, so I won‘t have to worry about leaks for a few years. That‘s why I wanted you to wear old clothes. That bitumen glue stinks to high heaven.“ To Jim, watching the boy‘s face twist and then relax in defeat actually held some entertainment. He laughed. „No need to sulk. We gotta get to work and cover up the furniture.“

They used large plastic sheets for that, and it seemed like Mike had already accepted his fate. Good for him, although he wasn‘t exactly doing anything with enthusiasm today. Still, covering the TV, couch, chairs, table and so on without any help would have been difficult for Jim.

Next the brought in the supplies from the car. Two long bars of oak, several rolls of asphalt roofing, two large buckets of bitumen glue, one bucket of screws, a pack of new saw blades for the jigsaw. „Okay...“ Jim said. „First things first. I want two reinforcements on each beam, so we‘ve got to saw these bars in half. Want a go at it?“

Mike held the jigsaw as though it was about to bit him, and when he pressed the trigger on it for the first time, he almost dropped the thing. „Easy. This thing will only hurt you if you let it. Just because it‘s loud doesn‘t mean it‘s dangerous.“ For the first bar, Jim guided Mike‘s hand. The next one he did on his own, and he did it quite well.

„Perfect.“ Jim said. „I guess you never did anything like this before?“

Mike shrugged. „My... I mean, _we_ would usually pay someone to do repairs around the house.“ Jim didn‘t miss how the kid was dancing around the word ‚ _father‘_.

„Uh-huh...“ Jim mumbled. He signaled Mike to help him carry the wood inside. „Let me give you a tip for when you have your own house. Suppose you save fifty bucks a year on repairs by fixing things yourself. And suppose you have a kid of your own. Once they‘re sixteen, you‘ll have eight hundred bucks. Enough to get them their first car.“

Mike shrugged, but without answering. „How are we gonna do this?“

Jim squinted his eyes at the ceiling and the two beams that needed fixing. „Okay, so my plan was to cut out the rotten bit from one beam, then reinforce it, then do the other.“

„And pray the roof doesn‘t fall on our heads?“ Mike suggested, and he was absolutely right. Jim didn‘t think that one beam more or less for just a few minutes would make much of a difference, but there was potential for disaster.

„Yeah, well, when I said you should be able to fix things around your own house, I wasn‘t necessarily talking about the roof. But look at this place. My old grandpa built this with his own hands, and I‘m gonna fix it with my own hands. You hold the ladder, kid.“ Mike had adjusted well to the jigsaw, but there was no way in hell Jim was letting him work with the thing overhead, on a ladder.

This even made Jim himself uncomfortable; dropping the saw might just kill him, so he worked with great care. In a mere minute, he could take out the rotten part of the beam. „I could drill the holes.“ Mike offered out of the blue.

And Jim thought this was a good idea, albeit still dangerous. But the kid went up the ladder, carrying the heavy power drill with such determination that Jim felt an odd sense of pride he didn‘t expect. „Hold it straight, kid.“

„Looks straight to me.“

„Not from here it doesn‘t.“ Jim chuckled. „A bit more to your right and... up... just an inch. That‘s better.“ To be honest, for someone who had never used any of these power tools, the boy was doing remarkably well. A lot better than Jim did when he had to teach himself these things.

For the next twenty minutes they made short work of the rotten beams, each of them doing their part as though this was their job and they were being paid for it. „Do you think it‘ll hold?“ Mike asked once it was over.

Jim shrugged. He wasn‘t too worried, since the roof never had to carry a huge load. The tall trees kept it mostly clear of snow during the winter. „Time will tell. Really doesn‘t look all that elegant, but it‘s better than having these beams slowly rot away over time and come down at some point. You good?“

„I‘m fine.“ The kid was stretching his arms as he spoke, and Jim knew where he was coming from. Working overhead was always a pain in the joints, which they were both feeling now. It was time for a smoke break before the _real_ work started.

„Got some soda in the fridge. Help yourself.“

Mike came outside with a can of 7 Up as Jim was just sitting down on a tree stump, looking over the roof. This would be a hell of a day, especially for Mike, who was definitely not used to this kind of work. Jim tried to imagine what the cabin would look like with asphalt roofing; He came to the conclusion that it would look like shit, but keep his head dry once and for all.

„You said your grandpa built this? Can‘t believe I never asked about it.“

„Yep. The family estate, so to speak. Grandpa and his family came here from Oklahoma when my pa was fifteen. Sort of a Grapes of Wrath story, I guess, only they went east instead of west. My parents got married two years later. Still in high school...“

„Oh...“ Mike said, and there was a very slight pink blush to his cheeks. It was all to clear what he was thinking. Everyone, including Mike and El themselves, sort of knew that they were headed for marriage at some point, but if Jim had a say in it, that day was still far away.

Jim stomped the remainder of his cigarette into the ground and got up. „Of course, those were different days. My pa thought he‘d have to go to war, but then when he had his diploma in hand, the war was over and he went on to work for the Sattler Company.“

The kid emptied his soda before burping into his hand. „Sorry. Uh... what‘s next?“

„Next is the interesting part. I‘ve never done anything like this before.“ Jim got the ladder from inside and put it up against the cabin. „But it can‘t be too hard, right? Just a bit messy. We‘ll have to work from bottom to top and make the layers overlap. We‘ll screw them in place first and then seal everything with the adhesive. Sound good?“

„As good as any plan.“ Mike remarked. „Want me to go up first?“

„Probably a good idea. I‘ll stay on the ladder. Putting my weight on that roof would tempt fate a little too much.“

Just getting the asphalt roll on to the roof wasn‘t exactly difficult. Mike held the end of it in place while Jim rolled it from one side of the roof to the other, before cutting it off with a knife. Then they would put in a few screws to hold it there until they could apply the glue. The stuff smelled of tar, and this would only get worse with the adhesive. It also left their hands with black spots.

„You know...“ Jim said after they were done with the front, moving to the backside of the cabin „On the long run it‘s probably not the best idea to leave these old shingles under there. But I‘ve been looking into buying a house in town anyways, so this right here is gonna be storage again.“

Mike took this information without commenting, but he worked with a bit more of a smile on his face from then on. Covering the entire roof took them about two hours, give or take, and since both of them had skipped lunch today, they decided to take another break. Jim had a drink too this time, but he left the beer cans where they belonged for the time being. Meanwhile, Mike made turkey sandwiches with whatever he found in the fridge.

„Where did you live? I mean, where did you actually grow up?“ the boy asked after he had already eaten half of his own sandwich. „Not in this place.“

At first Jim was taken aback. Not because he minded the question, but because just the idea that someone could take an interest in his past was so absurd. He hadn‘t talked, let alone thought about anything before New York in ages. „No, the cabin sort of turned into a storage space after my grandpa died. My pa bought a little house on Patton Street in forty-nine. That‘s where I grew up. But, you know, shit happens, and by the time I came back from Vietnam, ma and pa were gone.“

„Like, they were...? Sorry. I didn‘t mean to-“

„No, it‘s okay.“ Jim shrugged. At some point these memories used to hurt, but not anymore, and he could look back at them now as though they were images from a stranger‘s life. „Turns out having your parents die in a car crash could be your ticket home from the war. I guess if you need a moral to the story, then it‘s _don‘t volunteer for the army_.“

„W-Why is that the moral?“ The kid started chewing again, without ever leaving Jim out of his sight. „I mean, I get why you wouldn‘t want me to volunteer, but I don‘t see the connection. You said it was an accident.“

Jim contemplated his answer, knowing how hard it would be to say it out loud and be honest about it. This was something you would talk to a psychiatrist about. „It _was_ an accident. But even so, you might end up feeling like shit for the next ten years when it‘s your parents‘ death that gets you out of the worst place you‘ve ever been to. Like, how are you allowed to see a good side to this?“

Pretty quickly, Jim regretted how he got the kid caught up in this uncomfortable conversation about death and regret. He sighed as he stuffed the last bite of sandwich into his mouth. „Okay, I s‘pose this was too heavy to discuss over lunch. Sorry.“

„N-No, it was me who asked. I‘m sorry.“ Mike stretched his limbs before he got up from the still covered couch. They hadn‘t yet removed the plastic sheets because their clothes already bore some small tar stains, Mike‘s especially from crawling around on the roof.

„I‘ve got to warn you, I think this is gonna stink.“ Jim said as he was working a screwdriver under the lid of the first bucket of glue. „Christ...“ he mumbled once he got a whiff of it. It was like pressing your face into a freshly paved road, heavy and thick in his nostrils.

„That‘s... pretty awful.“ Mike noted, flaring his nostrils. „No way back?“

„Nope. And no use in complaining. Let‘s get this over with. Grab a paintbrush and get up there. I‘ll try to get this bucket on the roof.“ That was easier said than done, as the bucket was _heavy_ , almost filled to the brim and constantly sloshing its gooey contents from one side to the other. Jim had to set it down on the canopy, after realizing that the roof was too steep.

„Do we cover everything, or just the seams?“

„Everything, kid. Just put on a nice and even coating. I think we‘ve got more than enough of this stuff, and if we do run out I‘ll get another bucket.“ As before, Jim worked from the ladder as much as he could while Mike managed to reach the upper parts of the roof, crawling back down every few seconds to dunk his paintbrush in again.

At some point they gave up any attempt at staying clean. Who were they kidding? Their clothes would end up in a dumpster. The kids hands and knees were black, and as for Jim, his shirt turned into a stinking mess within minutes. It would be a huge win if they could just keep their faces clean. The thick adhesive also made the paintbrushes extremely heavy, turning their work into an endurance challenge.

„I‘m beginning to think this wasn‘t worth it.“ Jim panted while he had to rest his arm for the tenth time.

„You don‘t say.“ Mike sneered. „Would it have been so hard to replace a few shingles?“

„No, that would‘ve been very, _very_ easy, compared to this mess. But that‘s your next lesson.“

Mike stopped his work as well, his hair sticking wet to his temples. „You‘re teaching me lessons? I thought you were just torturing me.“

„Nah, kid, these are all valuable lessons for your life.“ Jim sighed. God, he couldn‘t _stand_ that asphalt stench anymore. „About how to be a man and stuff. You know, fix your own shit instead of paying some leech, be resourceful, learn how to use power tools...“

„Please get to the point.“ Mike pressed. „I‘m about to throw up.“

„Men always have to know best, kid. Of course I knew best when I planned this out, and now look at us. Just fixing my roof and being done with it would‘ve been _too_ easy. But pride comes before a fall. Listen, you‘ve done more than enough already. I can finish this up.“

The kid dunked his paintbrush in the bucket again. „Are you kidding? I‘d feel like shit if I left now. We‘re both in too deep, so let‘s just get this over with. Come on, we‘re about halfway done. Just promise you‘ll never make me do anything like this again.“

„I‘ll try to remember.“

All in all the work took a whole lot longer than Jim expected, even with two pair of hands working almost constantly, only taking breaks to rest their arms from time to time. The fact that this was turning into the first seriously warm day of the year didn‘t help either. But when the sky above the treetops was getting gloomy, things were looking fine. The roof was sealed top to bottom.

It was just too good to be true, so before Jim declared victory, he went over anything they might have missed in his head. But there was nothing. Maybe two hours to sunset and they were _done_. „That‘s... that‘s it.“

„Thank god...“ Mike groaned. Jim held the ladder for him to climb off the roof, and then both of them had to sit down right where they were, on the dirty ground. Not that they could have gotten any messier.

Jim took a deep breath, the first one in hours that didn‘t smell entirely like that vile black goo. „Now let‘s hope it doesn‘t rain in the next day or two.“

„Hey, if it does, it‘s really not my problem. Never again. Should we-“

„What?“

„Check if any of that stuff got inside?“

„Oh.“ Jim made an attempt at getting up, but that was too much for his forty year old back to handle right now. „Kid, let me tell you, once you hit thirty, things are going downhill. And a few years later you‘re gonna find yourself browsing a catalog for ergonomic mattresses. Just... go and check. I‘ll need a minute.“

„Nothing!“ Mike called from inside the cabin. „Looks like it‘s all clean.“

Jim used the time he was unobserved to crawl towards the porch and pull himself up by the banister. No need for the Wheeler kid to witness his loss of dignity. „Right, I need to wash my hands. Do I have any on my face?“

„No. Me?“

„Nothing. You know what, you go ahead.“

So Mike got his turn in the bathroom first, and he did look a whole lot better when he emerged. Refreshed, now with his hair wet and slick back. The oversized flannel had protected him well from the adhesive, but his palms were still as black as before. „I almost scrubbed the skin off, so it looks like this is gonna last us a while.“

„Looks like it.“ Jim nodded. „But at least it doesn‘t smell once it‘s dry.“ He was about to step into the bathroom himself when Mike stopped him.

„Do you think I could stay until El gets here? I think I... I really need to apologize for what I said on Thursday.“

„Be my guest, if you don‘t mind being filthy. I don‘t suppose any of my clothes would fit you.“ Jim grinned. „Maybe one of her dresses?“

But Mike just gave him a look and shrugged off the flannel, under which he had a plain green T-shirt that looked just fine, if a bit sweaty. As for the jeans, they couldn‘t be helped, so the plastic covering remained on the couch.

Jim put two TV dinners in the oven, and then he finally got to crack open a beer. God‘s gift to the working man. His number one cure for a sore back. After every little sip, he made a dramatic groaning noise.

„You‘re exaggerating.“ Mike deadpanned after a while, in between sips from his soda.

„Want some?“ Jim offered, not exactly serious. He would have let the kid have a sip to try, though. That never hurt anybody, and besides, at fifteen Jim himself had already looked back at one or two hangovers.

But Mike gave him a hollow laugh. „It‘s just too terrible. I mean, back when we were twelve Will and I snatched a can from my dad and-“ He broke off there. Definitely not because Jim was a cop, though. Mike bit his lip.

„You know, I... I didn‘t exactly get along with my old man.“ Jim said. „And I guess there‘s... I mean just sometimes... there‘s something not quite right with the way fathers and sons treat each other. Hard to pinpoint.“

„What do you mean?“ Both of them realized that they were now hitting the core of everything wrong in the boy‘s life right now.

„Like, there‘s so many things you forget about yourself. At some point we all look in the mirror and tell ourselves that we‘re never gonna be like our dads. And then _boom_ , twenty years pass and we‘ve just forgotten. None of us ever remember that criticizing is easy, but doesn‘t make a man. That‘s all I ever got from my pa, though.“

Mike nodded gravely, as though they were suddenly on eye level like never before. Maybe (Jim hoped) that made him feel a bit stronger. „He probably didn‘t mean to leave that impression.“

„Nah, I don‘t think he did. It‘s just that it takes men above a certain age a shit ton of effort to understand things they didn‘t grow up with themselves. One disconnect leads to the other, and suddenly you feel like you‘re living on Mars. I mean, screw you kids and your digital everything, right?“

„Yeah, right.“ Mike huffed bitterly. „But if my dad was living on Mars, he‘d only notice if the TV didn‘t work.“

„Maybe he‘s a bit of a special case, even among our kind?“ Jim supplied. His honest opinion was, he didn‘t like Ted Wheeler. Didn‘t like the way the guy was too much of a lobotomized sloth to realize what a fantastic son he _wasn‘t_ raising. But a demonizing rant against his father wasn‘t what Mike needed, so Jim held back.

„Doesn‘t matter now, does it? I... I didn‘t tell anyone yet. They‘re gonna sell the house. My mom is already looking for other places in town.“

„There‘s enough affordable places out there, don‘t worry.“ After keeping an eye on the market for a few months, Jim could tell Mike that with absolute certainty. „You realize that these things sort of just happen, don‘t you? One day two people get along, the next they don‘t. Back when divorce wasn‘t an option, that just meant being unhappy until they kicked the bucket. Just... you‘ve got to keep in mind that no one‘s trying to get back at the other for anything. Or at you.“

Mike hadn‘t taken a sip from his soda in quite a while now, and it didn‘t look like he would any time soon. His expression was no more than a mask of stone. „I‘ll... I‘ll be right back.“ He was headed straight for the door, bolted outside, and then there was just silence.

Jim sat in silence for a minute, but he kind of didn‘t expect Mike to come back in. When he had emptied his beer, he decided to check on the boy. The light orange tinge of the evening light had made way for a colder blue, now that the sun was below the horizon, but it was still as warm as in the afternoon.

Mike was sort of curled into himself sitting on one of the tree stumps a few yards away from the cabin. He wasn‘t crying, not really, and from Jim‘s experience with the kid, he needed to boil over first before he could shed any tears. „Look, I never wanted to give your dad any excuses. But you gotta agree, it‘s easy to explain what‘s wrong with him.“

„And what about me?“ the boy hissed.

„What about you?“

„What‘s wrong with _me_?“ Mike kicked dirt and leaves, almost falling from the tree stump that way. He picked himself up and stood defiantly in front of Jim.

And Jim‘s first instinct told him to say _‚Nothing is wrong with you.‘_ , but that would have been a lie. Something was wrong with everyone. What he instead told the kid was „You don‘t know the first thing about anger management. You‘re impulsive, resentful, and so awkward that fifteen year old me would‘ve dunked your head in the toilet at school. You act before you think. Want me to go on?“

„I mean... I mean...“ Mike stammered. Jim‘s honesty had taken the wind out of his sails for a few seconds. But when it came back, it was a hurricane. Now he was yelling. „I mean how could I not keep them going? I‘m the only one who could have!“

„You mean your parents? What, you think it‘s up to you to keep their marriage functioning?“

„Of course it is! There‘s my mom, there‘s Nancy, there‘s Holly, and with them my dad is always surrounded by girls! And then there‘s me, and I‘m the only one he should be able to relate to in this family!“

„Kid...“

„No! I can‘t just like the things he likes, I can‘t be the fucking quarterback he wants me to be, I don‘t want to meet his fat old business partners to get a foot in the door, and you know what; Shoot me if I ever get a job where I have to wear a suit and tie! And if that‘s not me, he doesn‘t _need_ me, and he doesn‘t _want_ me, and somtimes I just want to... I just-“

Jim let the boy have his way when he picked up a heavy branch and smashed it against a tree over and over, until the branch actually snapped in half and Mike was reduced to a panting and bubbling mess. Jim quickly made a mental note to look into anger management books, maybe as a thank-you gift for today‘s hard work. „Better?“

Mike nodded, looking more than done.

„Then c‘mere.“ It wasn‘t often that Jim felt he was handling an emotional situation well, but now he thought maybe the kid needed a hug, and Jim was right about that. „Do you have any idea how well you handled yourself today? Kid, I couldn‘t have done half of that without your help.“

„Y-You think?“

„I know.“ Jim said. Then he mumbled a curse to himself, because somehow handing out well deserved praise was _hard_. Why was it so hard to tell a fifteen year old that he had done a good job? It looked like both of them had some things to figure out. „Hey, I got an old punching bag stored away. You want it?“

Mike let go of Jim and wiped his nose. „You think it‘ll help?“

„Works wonders. It‘ll also help you with those twigs you call arms. Come on, dinner should be almost done.“

* * *

It was dark outside when El came back. Jim really didn‘t like her being outside alone after sunset, but the deal was that Mrs Mayfield would drop her off where the path to Jim‘s cabin met the road, so she only had to walk five minutes through the woods. She had two shopping bags with her, quite a bit less than he expected.

„Hey.“ she hugged him, and Jim pressed a kiss in her hair. El recoiled from him, though, with her nose wrinkled. „You smell gross.“

„I know, I know. Did you have a good day?“

„I did. And now I‘ve got some really nice things to wear this summer. I‘ll show you later.“

Jim didn‘t bother to ask her what today had cost him, as that really was a non-issue. How often did El get a chance to not only get out of the house, but to get out of this town as well?

She wasn‘t all that surprised to see Mike, and she acted a bit cold at first, as though she hadn‘t already forgiven him. Jim would never know what the boy had done to make her cry, and as long as they could work it out, he didn‘t care anyways. The kids talked outside. While Jim respected their privacy, he still couldn‘t stay away from the window for long.

Now, Mike had his blessing, one hundred percent, but their smooching... God, it was driving Jim nuts, and the worst part was that he couldn‘t do anything about it. This would only get worse over time. Also, so much for the _gross smell_. It looked like El minded the smell of tar a lot less when it was Mike. For as long as Mike was still frantically talking, Jim left them to it. But in the end they were more kissing than talking (no, they were _sucking_ on each other‘s faces), and at that point, Jim had enough.

„Okay, kids. It‘s getting late.“ he announced as he barged outside. They didn‘t even jump apart. „And Mike needs a shower.“

„He does.“ El giggled.

Mike grumbled „Apparently. Okay, I guess... guess I‘ll see you tomorrow, El?“

„See you tomorrow, Mike.“ she said sweetly.

„C‘mon, boy. I‘ll drive you home.“

Mike picked up his bike from where it was leaned against a tree. „You really don‘t have to.“

„You‘re tired.“ Jim insisted. „And some people in this town drive like maniacs after dark.“ He opened the tail of his Blazer for Mike to lift the Bike in. El saw them off, only going inside when Jim lost sight of the cabin in the mirror. „Looked to me like you kids worked things out?“

The boy buried his face in his hands. „Y-Yeah. God, I was such an ass. I‘ll remember that.“

„Just don‘t let it drag you down. Once your mom‘s got your living situation figured out, we put up that punching bag somewhere, and then whenever you feel like you need to be an ass, you can whack it around. That‘s healthier than bottling it up anyways.“

„Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you.“ The unspoken meaning _‚Thank you for noticing me‘_ lingered in the air. It was okay that Mike couldn‘t say it out loud. He had already broken through his shield of masculine inhibition once today - that was enough shame for a while.

Jim had inhibitions too. He didn‘t know what else to say, so he gripped the kid‘s bony shoulder until they pulled into Maple street. He wasn‘t trying to replace Mike‘s dad. But come hell or high water, he would if he had to.

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe leave a comment? Anyone?


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